


Desk Art

by iamthececimonster



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Artist Sirius Black, F/M, M/M, literature nerd remus lupin, peter isn't a traitor, some vulgar language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22925062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthececimonster/pseuds/iamthececimonster
Summary: Sirius is an art student with a shite attention span, Remus is a very sarcastic literature student. It starts as a critique of bad desk art. Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 40
Kudos: 514





	Desk Art

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Did I edit this? Absolutely tf not. Do I apologize for that? Again. No.  
> 2\. I am American. I tried my best. Please do not come for me. I beg of you.  
> 3\. I wrote this as a Christmas gift for my dear lovely friend Leah. It's the end of February. I'm doing my best. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it anyway!!!!
> 
> This was based off a Tumblr post that I can no longer find. If anyone recognizes it and finds it, please let me know! I'd love to give credit where credit is so necessarily due!
> 
> Edit: justantothergabriel was so kind as to help me find the source!! This came from a post by poorlilgayremus on Tumblr!!!! They're lovely and their blog is lovely!

The trouble with English professors is that they have exactly two modes. Delightful, friendly, and quirky, or just loathsomely arrogant and dull. And Remus’ current literature professor was solidly in the second category. The class wasn’t even thirty minutes in, and Remus had looked at the syllabus long enough to know a few things for certain. One, Masterpieces of English Literature: Literature and the Non-Human really could be an interesting course if literally anyone with half a personality were teaching it. Two, his professor really couldn’t get enough of his own damn voice, and that was grating as hell. Three, he’d read almost all of the required texts already. And the two he hadn’t already read were sitting on his overflowing to-read shelf, probably annotated with his ma’s neat handwriting in fading ink. Which would probably help, in terms of dealing with this torturous professor. Or just make him melancholy and annoyed.

In spite of his boredom and annoyance with the arrogant prick in what was probably a name-brand blazer standing in the front of the lecture, regaling them all with some tale he probably thought fascinating, Remus did write down all the important dates in his new planner, carefully, and in pencil. The previous term’s dates had been scribbled out and rewritten so many times that Remus vowed to never write in ink in a day planner again. And by the time the hour mark hit on his wrist watch, he also vowed to do everything he could to never take another class with this professor again, if he could avoid it. He figured he could manage an hour every other day, in the back of a massive lecture hall, learning about books he’d already read, and taking listless notes only so many times. 

By the time he walked back to his dorm room that evening, he felt a stress headache forming behind his eyes. The weight of his reading list, and one troublesome maths class he’d had to take to fill some requirement his advisor assured him was not avoidable, were bogging him down. He lit a cigarette, and the rush of nicotine calmed him a little. He pulled his phone out of his pants pocket. His dad had texted to wish him luck on his first day of classes of the term. He bit back the urge to respond with some sarcastic comment about his dad not wishing him luck until the day was almost over, breathed in the cigarette’s soothing drugs, and typed out a quick thanks. His roommate, an odd, habitual, very shy, but ultimately friendly chemistry student named Peter, had texted to ask about dinner in the student dining hall. Remus was really quite sure that if it weren’t for Peter, he’d’ve forgotten to eat anything other than the chocolate he kept stashed in a box under his bed, the entire previous term. Peter seemed to take Remus’s eating habits as a personal affront and invited him to breakfast and dinner every day at least. So he typed back an affirmative response, put out the butt of his cigarette, and hurried through the throngs of students rushing around the small campus, shifting his messenger bag higher on his shoulder. 

***

Sirius was deeply not looking forward to The Making and Meaning of Renaissance Art, but he had an Art History requirement to fill and he wanted to get it over with. His grey crop top had a splatter of green paint on it, remnant from his earlier time in the sunlit studio on campus. It was frustrating, but he figured he could just splatter paint the whole thing in multiple colors until it looked purposeful instead of messy. When he picked a seat, nearly the back of the classroom but not quite the very last row, a few seats in from the end, he tugged his hair out of the messy bun he’d thrown it in on his way into the studio between a truly dull science course and meeting James for lunch. He was annoyed with the bun, having messed with it too much while James prattled on and on about the redhead who had been in his intro to sociology course the previous term, and was in another one of his courses this one, and was truly going to be the death of his best friend. Unless James figured out how to get his foot out from its position firmly lodged in his mouth and figured out how to talk to her without being a huge wanker. Sirius brushed the thoughts from his head and set to braiding his long, wavy hair into a messy braid while he watched the rest of his classmates file in, followed by a stodgy looking professor holding a stack of papers and a coffee mug, and looking harried already. Sirius fiddled with the ring in his lower lip as he tied off the braid and appraised the professor. 

It turned out the man was fine, if dull. But there was only so much Sirius could hear about the second syllabus of the day without wanting to bash his head against the wooden desk in front of him. Instead, he took a cheap biro he kept in his bag for this very reason, and set about creating an ivy trim on the edge of the desk, underlining things in the syllabus he’d printed before coming to class when they seemed relevant. The hour went fairly quickly this way. He was done with one edge of the desk’s ivy border. He hoped they wouldn’t move the desks around before Wednesday. 

He had one more class to get through - a much preferred Drawing II - and then would be heading to his cousin’s restaurant for a celebratory dinner with James. He had a craving for Pad Ga Paow, and his cousin’s was truly the best ever. Plus she always had his favorite Thai iced tea and seeing the other proverbial Black Sheep (a double entendre that always made him snicker internally) happy and successful with her booming restaurant and quietly funny husband always made him feel a little more hopeful. 

***

When Remus returned to his dreaded Non-Human Lit classes, he found his seat blissfully empty. Setting his notebook and pen, and his beat up copy of  _ Arthurian Romances _ (which had once been his ma’s, and which he had hungrily read when he was a lonely and pretentious adolescent) on the desk, he slouched in his seat and waited for the classroom to fill. Amused, he noticed that someone who had sat in the desk since he’d last been in it had begun to draw a rather detailed ivy border down the left side of the desk. He ignored it in favor of turning off his headphones and cell phone when the professor walked in, in a different smarmy blazer, with a paper cup of tea. Remus kicked his feet out - worn and nearly threadbare converse in stark contrast to the professor’s shining black footwear - and refused to feel any type of way about his jeans with the worn spot in the knee. 

He dutifully took notes, and made little side notes with which to amuse Peter over dinner later. Peter was taking the second of two required composition classes, and one history class, and found humanities professors truly baffling in their insistence that there are no true facts, only interpretations. A fact which Remus found endearing about his roommate. Or friend. He supposed they were likely friends now. The first time a humanities professor had asked Peter for an interpretation of the facts, Peter had returned to their dorm in a flurry of frustration and hurried ranting about “non-negotiable facts of life,” which would have been funny if it hadn’t been for the way Peter’s hands had shaken and the poor boy had nearly forgotten dinner. Remus helped him write that essay. 

***

By Friday’s class, Sirius had learned more about how people got paid for art in Italy during the Renaissance than he really thought he’d ever use or need. And he’d nearly finished three sides of the desk in careful ivy border. And he’d heard more about this supposedly incredible redhead James was in love with than he really ever wanted to. He’d realized that by breakfast on Thursday that the redhead (her name was Lily, he finally found out) was probably going to punch James in the face. He also realized that if he met her, he’d probably rather like her. Which was amusing to him. 

Saturday morning, Sirius woke James up by pouncing on his bed. 

“Oi!” James hollered with a groan. Sirius’s knee was digging into his side. 

“Shove over. I’m cuddling.” Sirius mumbled. 

James was already shuffling over, lifting the comforter up. “You’re like a giant dog, Pads.”

Sirius snickered. “Woof.” He muttered into the pillow. “Cuddle me.”

“Sir yes sir.” James acquiesced, tossing one arm over his best friend. “Time’s it?” He asked, squinting in the direction of his night side table. 

“Near half nine.” Sirius responded, half asleep again. 

“Gotta leave by noon.” 

“Prongs. Shut up. ‘M sleeping.”

“Mmm.” 

An hour later, a shrill alarm rang from James’ mobile. 

“Bloody fucking shite mate.” Sirius grumbled, yanking the covers off of James and over his own head.

“You’re the one who crawled in here, quit your whinging.” 

“Turn the damn thing off.” 

James reached around Sirius and shut off the offensive alarm. “I’m getting in the shower. Shall I wake you when I’m done?”

“Mmm.” Sirius agreed. 

Two hours and about three outfit changes on Sirius’s part later, they were in James’s car driving towards the Potter home north of the city. Sirius commandeered the aux cable and started playing The 1975’s new album immediately. 

“Seriously?” James griped. 

“Hush. Mr. Top 40.”

“That’s not totally accurate…” 

“Oh excuse me. Mr. Top 40 plus also India’s Top 40, and Bollywood music from the 80s.”

“They’re classics.” 

Sirius raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. 

“You listen to KPop.”

Sirius glared, and changed the music to a BLACKPINK album. James rolled his eyes. Sirius slid his shoes off and crossed his legs. James was very strict about feet on the dashboard, much to Sirius’s chagrin. 

“Hey, mate, do you think Lily would…” 

Sirius cut him off. “I think Lily is going to deck you, is what I think. Maybe try stop being such a prat?”

James sputtered. “But…” 

“I will put my headphones in and ignore you the entire drive if you say another word about Lily fucking Evans.”

James ran his hand through his already messy hair. “Fine.” He sighed. “Did I tell you what that sniveling bastard said?”

They spent the rest of the ride soundly abusing the racist prick in James’ History of Crime and Punishment class. Sirius had very briefly met the asshole, who had heard someone refer to Sirius as Mr. Black and tried to smarm up to him. Until, of course, Sirius informed the greasy brown-noser that he had been summarily kicked out of the House of Black on account of being a flaming homosexual and generally anti-literally everything that house stood for, so if Snivellous didn’t want a bloody nose in addition to it being brown, he should probably get the fuck out of the way. In fairness, Sirius had been in a very bad mood that day.

***

“Remus, do you ever do anything other than read?” Peter’s voice was loud over the music in Remus’s headphones. 

He took one headphone out, and pretended to think about it. “Mmm...probably not much. Sometimes I remember to breathe. Smoke too much. I’m currently procrastinating on my maths homework by doing the reading for my British Female Novelists class.”

Peter squinted. “That does not seem right.” He leaned over the open maths textbook on Remus’s desk, which Remus was pointedly ignoring by reading  _ Lady Audely’s Secret  _ on his bed. “This is easy, Remus!” Peter exclaimed. 

Remus raised one crooked eyebrow. The one with the scar down the middle. Peter had informed him very pointedly a month into their strange friendship that it made Remus look terribly intimidating. 

Peter frowned. “Well. I think it’s easy. I’d rather do this than read that.” He gestured generally at the book Remus was holding, and then at the stack of books on his desk. 

Remus chuckled. “I’d rather rip my eyeballs out than do…” He leaned over to double check what he was actually supposed to be working on. “...linear equations, Peter.” 

The other boy shrugged. “I’ll do it.”

Remus frowned. “Peter, I can’t just let you do my maths work.”

“Can you help me with my essay on the Trojan War next month?” Peter asked, sitting at Remus’s abandoned desk chair. 

Remus thought it over. He did like the Trojan War. He wondered if he could convince Peter to read The Song of Achilles. “Yeah, sure.”

“You’ll have to rewrite this anyway. Or the professor is going to know you didn’t do it.”

“Fair.”

“And then dinner?”

“Ahhh, there it is. Your true reasoning.” Remus grinned at the other boy. “Yeah, sure. Rouse me when you’re done.” 

Peter just grinned. Remus put his headphone back in, The Black Keys singing about lonely boys in his ears. Less than an hour later (and in less than half the time it would’ve taken Remus to finish the maths work), Peter was shaking Remus’s sock clad foot and talking about spaghetti bolognese. 

Later that evening, he copied over the maths homework, finished the chapters in  _ Lady Audley’s Secret _ and the rest of  _ Arthurian Romances,  _ and then beat Peter for the first time in documented history at Mario Kart. Probably on accident. 

The beginning of his week was violently uneventful. The dreaded Non-Human professor assigned a new book and an essay. Peter managed to nearly get a chemical burn on Tuesday. 

Wednesday promised a bit of a chill, finally. Nothing pleased Remus more as he pulled his worn jean jacket out of his tiny closet. Colder months were preferred, as people didn’t question long sleeves worn in the winter, he didn’t have to worry about weird questions or stares at the scars up his left arm, and besides all of that, he didn’t have to worry about the risk of sunburn, or adding to his already extensive freckle collection. He nearly grinned to himself around his cigarette as he rushed across campus in the grey, windy morning to his Non-Human class. 

He slid into his seat in a nearly empty lecture hall. When he looked down at the desk, he realized that whoever was using this desk on a different day had finished their intricate ivy border of the desk. For some reason, this made him smile as well. He snapped a picture of it, and texted it to Peter. 

“The strangest vandalism ever.”

“Your moral compass is bizarre.”

“It’s this or anatomically incorrect dicks, Peter. You went to public school, same as me. You know what it’s like. This is a welcome reprieve.”

“You gonna write ‘Fuck the man’ on there or something, too?”

“Nah, punk vandalism’s only acceptable in the loos at a bar.”

“Prof just walked in.”

“Don’t get in trouble.” Remus took his own advice and put his phone away, pulling out his books and a pen. 

He chewed on the end of it and tried to think of a witty note to leave along the border on his desk, but he got into an argument about the nature of free will with some aggro looking asshole in the front row instead and forgot all about it. 

***

Friday was extensively, and terribly boring. The professor flipped through a slideshow of Italian frescos, and Sirius rolled his eyes to himself. He meant to take notes, really. But he’d had a lengthy education on Italian renaissance art since he knew what art was and honestly, anything that made him think of the Black Family Estate was definitely not something he wanted to be thinking of at 3pm on a Friday afternoon. Or, really, ever. 

Which is why he instead he started drawing a figure, fresco style. A lady, all back muscles and absurd lines. Renaissance painters truly must’ve had no idea how the human body worked. He worked quietly, quickly, in the bottom left corner, just above the border he’d finished on Monday afternoon. Wednesday, he’d added a few small flowers in the top right corner, and then drawn an absurd portrait of James in his notebook, hair comically messy and glasses ridiculously large. He’d taped the picture to James’s door before he’d gotten back. James had since moved it to the fridge and was unequivocally excited about it. 

The lady he was drawing was messy and absurdly posed. The ink smeared in places, but it distracted him well enough. The lecture finished and Sirius’s hand was covered in black ink. He really hoped nobody else was going to use this desk. Quickly, he snapped a picture of the drawing and sent it James. 

“Ey Prongs. This is u.”

“I wish my back had that many muscles. Can the human body actually twist like that?”

“Ask Michelangelo. He sure seemed to think so.”

“Didn’t your house have a copy of that one painting? With the weird God and the naked dude?”

“Wow...you just described literally every fuckin’ painting in the history of Christianity.”

“Yeah, I realized that as soon as I sent it.”

“The Creation of Adam. Yeah. I maintain Michelangelo was a raging fuckin’ homo. His art was just dudes with their dicks out.”

“You’re a raging homo, Pads. You just drew a naked lady.”

“For the IRONY, Prongs. Keep up.”

“Ugh. See you in 20.” 

“Rude.”

Sirius put his phone away and walked outside. It was chilly, finally. Kind of raining. Perfect leather jacket weather. He relished the smell of leather polish and rain. He pulled the ponytail elastic out of his jeans pocket and put his hair in a messy bun, to keep the rain from plastering it to his face and neck. Then he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked quickly across campus. He wanted to spend the entire weekend being lazy and eating pizza and forcing James to watch anything other than True Crime on Netflix. 

***

When Remus returned to class on Monday, he couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he sat down. Whoever used this desk had drawn a truly absurd sketch of a woman. It kind of looked like it belonged in a Reniassance-era fresco, all absurd body contortions and less-than-artfully draped fabric. He stared at it for a while. The woman’s contorted body had her belly button near where the start of her ribcage ought to be. He pulled out his notebook, and a blue biro, and quickly, before the classroom filled up, he wrote, following the ridiculous curve of the woman’s back. 

“Why is her navel so far up? Surely it should be lower.” 

Then he snapped a picture of it, and sent it to Peter. 

“My fellow desk-mate is ridiculous.” 

“Your critique of your ‘desk-mate’s’ art is ridiculous.” 

“Careful. I’ll base your entire Trojan War essay on Song of Achilles.” 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

“Unrepentant.”

“And very dedicated to the historical gays.” 

“Alright then, Mssr Moony. Go be all studious or whatever.”

“Must you?”

“If the moon phases tattoo fits Werewolf McWerewolf.”

“And people think you’re the nice one.” 

“One word: Wormtail.”

“It was gruesome, Wormy. Gruesome.”

“Goodbye Remus. Have a good class, Remus.”

“Harumph.” 

***

When Sirius got back to class on Monday afternoon, he was in a foul mood. It was pouring rain, his motorcycle was having some issue with the starter, and Regulus had tried to call him twice already that day. He slammed down at his seat, fully expecting to glare at everyone who walked by him and hopefully fall asleep rather quickly. 

His plans changed quickly when he saw writing scrawled next to his terrible drawing. In a rather messy scrawl, somebody wrote a note. 

“Why is her naval so far up? Surely it should be lower.”

Sirius blinked. Several times. Then he pulled his phone out of his back and opened snapchat. He snapped a picture. 

“What kind of feckin nerd critiques someone else’s lecture desk drawing?”

He sent it to James. 

“You, Sirius. You’re that kind of nerd. Also, Desk Mate makes a point.” 

Sirius scoffed. And smiled in spite of himself. He pulled his biro out and chewed on the end. Then he scribbled on the desk. 

“Inspected a lot of ladies’ belly buttons, have you?”

Then he texted James. “Should I call him back? See what he wants?”

“Reg?”

“No, Prongs. The bloody pope. Fuck. Yes, Reg. God, you’re thick.” 

“Your choice, Pads.”

“Not helpful.”

“We’ll pro-con it later? I’ll get chinese.” 

“Fine.”

Sirius put his phone away. The professor walked in. He figured he should maybe take some notes. It was sort of interesting. 

***

Remus was nearly late to class on Wednesday. His arm was acting up, he had stayed up far too late the night before reading and finishing a response paper, and he’d nearly burned himself spilling hot tea down his front when he woke up. Then he could barely light his own damn cigarette while he was walking to class. He was tired, in pain, and he needed caffeine. 

He sat down quickly, and wrangled his jacket off his useless arm. He saw the girl a few seats down looking over at him with a strangled, pitying look on her face. He scowled and she looked away quickly. Part of him wanted to just put the jacket back on and go back to bed. He might if he ever got through this class. Fuck the maths class he had later. 

He looked down at the desk and snorted in spite of himself at the artist’s sarcastic question, and their beautiful, sprawling handwriting. Because he was a little shite, he wrote another note. His handwriting was contrastingly awful. 

“Probably more than you, judging by your drawing.” 

The class let out early and Remus sighed in relief. He needed food, and caffeine, and his pain pills. And to not leave his bed for approximately a week. 

He managed to get to the cafe near campus without too much difficulty. He had a few quid to spare, just enough for a small sandwich and a tea. He got in line. He was pretty sure he recognized the girl in front of him, a petite girl with bright red hair. She was having what sounded like a heated conversation with someone on the phone. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was in the Global Society class he’d taken the previous semester and had laid into several of the more asshole-ish guys in the class. An absolute delight. Just before it was her turn, he heard her snap. 

“I’m at the counter. Show up or don’t, Sev.” And she shoved her phone into her back pocket with a vigor so real he was fairly shocked her pocket didn’t tear. 

The person in front of her took approximately a lifetime to order. Finally, she ordered, quickly, and stormed off. It was Remus’s turn. 

“Mornin’” The tired looking cashier mustered up a smile, and didn’t quite look at Remus. “What can I get started for you?”

Remus tried to smile back anyway. “Small earl grey and one of your veggie sandwiches, please?”

The cashier wrote his order on a paper cup. “Name?”

“Ah, Remus.”

The cashier looked up with one raised eyebrow. Remus grimaced and shrugged. The cashier wrote it on the cup, told him his total, and took his money. Remus gratefully moved off to the side to wait for his order. The redhead was sitting at a small table in the corner. He pulled out his book and started to try to read a little. He managed to be sufficiently distracted until he heard his name. 

Gratefully, Remus grabbed his tea and his sandwich from the little counter, and turned to walk back to the little table he had claimed. He made it about one step before his hand started to lose grip, and his leg started to give out, and he tripped. His paper cup full of steaming tea went flying, along with his entire body, into a solid figure. 

“Fuck!” Remus cried out, bracing himself with both hands. His sandwich hit the floor moments before he did. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” The person hollered, backing up. 

Remus looked up. A strange, sallow-looking man was standing there, covered in Remus’s hot tea. Remus recognized the man from his composition class the previous semester. 

“Ah, I’m so sorry! I tripped.” Remus struggled to stand. 

The man snarled. “If it isn’t Loony Lupin. I should’ve guessed.”

Remus flushed, finally standing up. “I’m so sorry, Snape, please, let me help you…” 

Snape backed up. “I don’t want you anywhere near me!” He was staring directly at Remus’s scarred and now bright red hand. The hot water burnt. “Fucking freak.” He hissed. He caught sight of Remus’s Star of David that fell out from under his shirt, and sneered. 

Remus bit his lip. His hand hurt, he’d just wasted his quid, he was tired. Snape was an asshole. And apparently an anti-semite.

“It was an…”

“An accident? I’m sure. You shouldn’t be allowed in public…” 

“SEVERUS!” The petite redhead was standing just behind him. 

Snape spun around. “Lily! I…” 

She put her hand up. Remus slowly bent down to try to pick up the sandwich and the cup. 

“Don’t, Sev. Go away.”

“But…” 

“No.”

Snape scowled at Remus and swept out of the shop. He stomped on the remnants of Remus’s sandwich as he stormed out, about a centimeter from Remus’s shaking fingers. Remus flinch. 

Then there was another set of hands helping him clean up. He looked up. It was the redhead. 

“You’re Remus, right?”

Remus nodded. 

“We were in Global Societies together.”

Remus smiled a bit and nodded. “You’re Lily?”

“Pleasure. Are you alright?”

“Ah, well…” Remus stood again, with difficulty, holding his now empty cup in his good hand. He raised the other one slightly. “Doesn’t work so good sometimes.”

Lily nodded. Her face was noticeably devoid of that horrid pitying look. “Can I get you another?”

“Oh, no, I don’t want to trouble you…” Remus said. 

She leaned towards him conspiratorially. “It’s no trouble. My best mate’s behind the counter.”

Remus raised one eyebrow. His leg really hurt. 

Lily whispered again. “I can get it for free.”

Then suddenly the barista called out Remus’s name again. Remus looked over, confused. She smiled, her dark eyes twinkling. “Think there was an issue with your previous order, mate.”

Remus looked at Lily. She grinned. 

“Oh, thanks so much Dorcas.” She turned back to Remus. “I’ll grab it for you, if you want to sit? My company suddenly decided to leave due to irreconcilable rudeness, if you don’t mind some company?”

Remus grinned. “Er. Sure?” He paused for a moment. “You’re not also an anti-Semite, are you?” He didn’t think Lily seemed the type, but she called Snape her friend, and he wanted to be sure.

“What!? Fuck no! Who…”

Remus blinked and cut her off. “Never mind that. Rough day. Shall we?”

Lily smiled. “It’d be my pleasure.”

“Lovely.”

Lily grabbed Remus’s remade tea and sandwich, then grabbed her own coffee and muffin and books from the other table, and joined him. She kept up a conversation about classes and books and politics and Remus would’ve been so fascinated if he didn’t genuinely feel himself falling asleep in spite of the caffeine. Luckily, Lily seemed to notice this. She took their trash without a word, and began packing her bag. 

“I have a bit of time yet before my next class. Where are you headed?”

Remus blinked. “My dorm?”

“Can I walk with? Give me something to do.” Lily asked with a smile. 

Remus knew she was trying to make sure he got back to his dorm safely, but she did him the courtesy of not telling him so, and he appreciated that. “Sure.” He managed to sling his bag over his shoulder and off they went. 

He spent the rest of the day in bed. Peter ordered pizza that night. 

***

Sirius didn’t go to classes on Wednesday. He met with his younger brother in the morning at a coffee shop across the city from his school. 

“Shouldn’t you be at school?” He asked, when Regulus sat down across from him at the tiny table. 

“Skivved off.” 

“Mummy and daddums won’t be pleased.” Sirius remarked, slouching in his chair. 

Regulus raised his eyebrow. He looked just like Sirius when he did that. “How’d you do it?” He asked. 

Sirius scowled. “Do what?”

“How’d you get out?”

“Didn’t have much choice, did I? I got disowned, Reg. I didn’t just leave.”

“I was there. They gave you a chance to stay, and you…”

“They gave me a chance to… are you out of your goddamn mind? They said I could get married to a woman, do exactly as they said, and take all of Dad’s beatings. When I said no, Dad beat me unconscious. That’s not exactly a glowing reason to stay, Reg.”

“But you still left. How?”

Sirius blinked at his brother. “Why do you care?”

Regulus coughed and shifted awkwardly.

“Why. Do you care?” Sirius reiterated. 

“I don’t.” Regulus scowled uncomfortably. “I just…” 

“Reg.” Sirius lowered his voice. “What happened?”

“I…” Regulus swallowed. His voice was barely a whisper. “I can’t stay there, Sirius. I thought you were crazy, I thought we should be just like them, but… I was wrong. I can’t do it. I can’t stay there.” 

Sirius looked his brother dead in the eye. “Regulus. What happened?”

“I got caught...uh. I got caught snogging this boy in my year. He’s not...he’s not important, really. I just mostly wanted to see what it was like. But they… he’s in the hospital, Sirius. He’s in the hospital because of me, and they tried to say it was because he tricked me, but I… I liked it. I wanted to kiss him. I initiated it.” 

Sirius’s breath caught in his throat. He took a moment to steady himself. “Holy shit, Reg.”

“I tried to explain that it was me, but I just got backhanded across the face for that one. I don’t...I don’t know.” 

Sirius suddenly felt like he was going to cry. He coughed, clearing his throat. “Are you safe?”

Regulus scoffed. “It’s sorta funny. You know McGonagall?”

Sirius squinted, chuckled. “Do I know Minnie? The great love of my life?”

“She was your head of house, Sirius.” Regulus raised an eyebrow. “And a woman.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “What Minnie and I have transcends time, age, and gender, Regulus. Honestly.”

“She did say you were insufferable.” Regulus looked like he was trying not to smile. 

“She loves me.” Sirius got serious again. “What did she do?”

“Ah. She uh. Offered me some help, I guess?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. 

“Told me that she’d keep an eye out. Told me I needed anything…” 

“Good. You’re...you’re nearly done, Reg. Do you have a plan?”

Regulus swallowed. He looked so fucking young. “I don’t have any idea what I’m going to do, Sirius.”

“You’ll move in with me and James.”

“Potter?”

“No, Dean.” Sirius scoffed. “Of course, James Potter. You know, my best friend? The one whose parents took me in after our dear darling parents kicked me out?”

Regulus sighed. “Yes, of course I know who James Potter is. I only had to listen to our parents rip on his for our entire childhood. Same as you. Foreigners and heathens and whatever else.”

Sirius snickered. “Well. James is probably a heathen. But it’s not really religiously related.”

“Would he even let me?”

“Let you what?”

“Stay. With you.”

Sirius looked at his younger brother. He looked tired, terrified, and terribly young. So, so fucking young. “Regulus. You’re my brother. He’ll let you stay. We’ll figure it out.”

Regulus gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing. “You’re sure?”

Sirius leaned forward. “Listen. If you’re dedicated to skivving off today, why don’t you come back to mine? We can talk it over with James, figure it all out.”

James was already there by the time they got back, with pizza and fizzy drinks and a set look on his face. Sirius’s heart was in his throat, but by the time Regulus went back to school, he felt like he could breathe a little again. He and James had emailed McGonagall, would start looking for a bigger apartment. Regulus was going to look for a job he could get after school - he wasn’t sure he wanted to go to school yet, and Sirius wasn’t going to force him. They had a tentative plan. Sirius had a headache forming behind his temple when he said goodbye to his brother. 

When they got back to the flat, James hugged Sirius tight. 

“He’s gonna be alright, Pads.”

“You sure?”

“Certain. Minnie will take care of him. Mum and Dad will be more than happy to help us find a bigger flat - Mum doesn’t like this one anyway. He’ll be here soon, and it’ll be alright.”

***

Remus didn’t move from his bed Thursday. He thought about it, but his entire body was protesting, spasming under his sheets. Peter fussed for a while in the morning, until Remus got tired of that. 

“Please just go to class, Pete.” He croaked. “I’m not moving. I promise. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

“Okay. You sure you don’t need anything?” Peter worried. 

Remus closed his eyes. His hand was spasming. “I really don’t know right now.”

“Okay…”

Peter still hadn’t moved from his spot about a foot away from Remus’s bed. Remus sighed quietly. “Go, Peter. Please. I just want to sleep.”

“Okay.” 

Finally, Peter grabbed his bag and left. Remus closed his eyes and went to sleep. He woke up off and on all morning long, his body spasming and twitching. It hurt like hell. Around noontime, Peter came back into their dorm room holding a cup with a lid and a bent straw. Remus thought about trying to stand up, but his back twitched, and he grimaced instead. 

“Brought you a chocolate milkshake.” Peter said, matter-of-factly. 

Remus smiled at his roommate. “Peter, you’re an absolute gem.” 

He reached his good hand out for the cup. Peter handed it to him carefully. Remus sipped it gratefully. Delicious. He started to turn. 

“Hey, Pete, could you…” 

Peter was standing right next to him, holding a tiny orange bottle of pills. “Grab your muscle relaxers?”

“Ah. Yes.” Remus smiled weakly. “What would I do without you?”

Peter rolled his eyes to the water stained ceiling. “I really don’t know.” 

He opened the bottle, poured one pill out onto his palm, took the milkshake from Remus, and replaced it with the pill. He handed Remus the glass of water by his bedside. Remus swallowed the pill with a grimace. Then Peter took the water back and put it on the desk again.

“I’m going to use the loo. You have class this afternoon?” Remus asked, struggling to sit upright. He knew that Peter was wanting to help him, and was thankful that he wasn’t actually reaching out to do so. He also knew Peter wouldn’t leave until he was back in bed, and he was thankful for that as well. 

“Just one.” Peter responded, watching Remus walk slowly across the room, holding on to the furniture for support. 

Remus managed to get to the shared bathroom and back without falling, for which he was grateful. “We could watch a movie tonight.”

Peter raised his eyebrow. “Are you picking?”

“Prick. I’ll let you pick.”

“Then sure.”

Remus climbed, painfully, back into the bed and made a grabby motion for the milkshake. “Gimme that milkshake and go be a prick elsewhere, Pete.”

“Oi!”

“You’re lovely and I am eternally grateful for you. Also, you’re about to be late.”

“Oh! Shite!”

Peter handed him the cup and grabbed his bag and jacket, hollering goodbyes over his shoulder. Remus snickered, settling back into the pillows as the muscle relaxer took effect, sipping the milkshake. Just as he was slurping the last of it, his eyes started to close. He fell back asleep finally, if a bit painfully.

They watched  _ Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind _ , which Remus picked just to piss Peter off, and Remus fell into a sweaty and fitful sleep. 

The next morning, Remus woke up less spasm-y, but feeling rather like he’d been hit by a Mac truck. Peter handed him a pain pill and some toast and demanded he stay in bed. 

“It’ll do you no good to try to walk around today, mate. It’s pouring rain, and anyway, it’s Friday. Just skiv off.”

“Peter, I really shouldn’t. I’m fine…” Remus made an attempt to sit up in bed but his head was throbbing and even sitting up hurt. 

“You’re very clearly not fine, Remus.” Peter insisted, pushing Remus gently back into the bed.

“Wormtail, your bedside manner is terrible.” 

Peter shrugged. “I’m studying to be an chemist. Not a nurse. You’re the only person who ever complains.”

“Computers and chemicals can’t complain out loud.”

“Go back to sleep. I’ll bring you some soup for lunch.”

“You’re an unholy terror.”

“Good night, Moony.”

“Yeah yeah.”

***

At James’ insistence, Sirius returned to class on Friday. He really would’ve rather stayed in and stressed about Regulus more, but James pointed out that he had already skivved off these classes once this week, and that it probably wasn’t on to do it again. So, he shrugged on his jacket and took the bus to school. The rain was spitting horribly and he wasn’t really keen on his bike potentially stalling out in the middle of the road during a rainstorm. Some aggro looking asshole in a flat brimmed cap and baggy jeans glared at Sirius’s hand where it was clutching the handrail. Sirius looked down. His iridescent black nail polish was chipped and desperately needed to be redone. Sirius smiled at the guy. 

“I know, I really shouldn’t leave the house with chipped nail polish. But sometimes, there just aren’t enough hours in the day. I’m sure you understand?” He put on his poshest accent and smiled brightly. 

The guy looked away. Sirius rolled his eyes, but the rest of the trip was quiet. He chewed on his lip ring, worrying about Regulus. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it. It buzzed again. Two texts. One from James, one from Regulus. He opened James’ first.

“I know you’re worrying about him, Pads. He’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.” Sometimes, Sirius was pretty sure he and James shared a brain. Which horrified him.

“If you say so.”

Then Sirius opened the one from Regulus. “I’m okay, Sirius. Much better at keeping my head down than you, anyway.”

“Oh very funny.”

“Drama queen.”

“Prat.”

“I’ll talk to you tonight?”

“Sounds good.” It felt good to be able to joke with Reg again. Talk like it was normal.

Sirius opened the text thread with James again. “It’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He has to be.”

Somehow, Sirius managed to get through the morning without actually strangling anyone, which was a near-miracle. After a quick lunch with James, who was now going on about that stupid prat Snivellous and how shitty he was again, Sirius rushed to his Renaissance class. 

He slid into his desk, and noticed another comment next to his drawing. “Probably more than you, judging by your drawing.”

Sirius was scandalized. Horrified. How very dare this mysterious, snarky stranger with the shite handwriting. He whipped his phone out to send a picture of it to James. 

“The gall!”

“I mean, in fairness…”

“Oh shove off, Prongs.”

The professor walked in. Sirius shoved his phone in his bag, and pulled out his biro. Quickly, he scribbled, in his far superior handwriting, thank you very much, “fuk u.”

Considering that Sirius had missed the previous class, and that the professor was giving them a study guide for an upcoming unit test, which Sirius desperately wanted to pass, he decided he should pay some attention. He took rather detailed notes, leaving his hand covered in blue ink. As he was packing up, he smirked at his note to the desktop art critic. 

By the time he got on the bus to go home, it smelled of wet rubber and stale chips, which was perhaps the grossest possible combination. James wasn’t due to be home for another hour, so Sirius flopped down on his bed, exhausted, and was half asleep by the time James stormed in carrying curry.

***

When Remus returned to class on Monday, he was tired and a little slow, and definitely not enthusiastic about having to listen to this guy for so many hours. He laughed to himself, though, when he saw the elegantly scrawled “fuk u” under his comment on the desk drawing. 

“Mature” he wrote back. He sent a picture to Wormtail. 

“Lovely desk mate.”

“Ah, sure.”

He saw Lily in the cafe again after classes, this time blissfully unaccompanied by Severus. She was chatting with the dark eyed barista again, Dorcas. 

“Oh, Remus!” She called when he walked in. He smiled. 

“Hi Lily. Dorcas.” He nodded to the barista. 

“Earl Grey?”

“Do you have any herbals?”

“Jasmine?”

“Lovely.” Remus reached for his wallet. 

“Don’t worry about it, mate.”

“Oh, I…”

“No seriously.” Dorcas turned away from him abruptly to pour the hot water. 

Remus turned to Lily. 

“She really, really dislikes Severus.” Lily said, lips in a thin line. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better than I was, thanks.” He fiddled with the strap of his bag. “Do you mind me asking why you hang out with him? He doesn’t seem very nice.”

Lily sighed. “We were great friends since primary school. He’s a good person, inside.”

Dorcas scoffed, handing Remus his tea. “Maybe deep inside.”

Remus shrugged. “It’s not my business, I suppose.” 

The bell above the door jangled, and in walked a tall, fit young man with wild, dark hair, wearing a bright yellow jersey of some kind, and his very short companion. The second man was so beautiful, it was very nearly breath-taking. His long hair was tied in an intricate braid, he had some sort of dark makeup smeared artfully around his eyes, and at least 5 piercings that Remus could count. Looking at him was so distracting, Remus didn’t hear Lily’s frustrated sigh next to him. 

“That’s my cue, sorry Remus.”

“Hmm?” Near the door, the shorter man had caught sight of Lily and was rolling his eyes and very clearly trying to distract his friend. Remus grimaced. “Ah. Yes.”

“Can I get your number? Maybe we can have lunch later in the week?”

“That would be great.” Remus rattled off the number to Lily, who scrawled it across the back of her hand, just as the taller man caught sight of her. 

“Oi, Evans!”

“Jesus Christ, Potter, give it a REST, would you?” Lily responded, exasperatedly as she shouldered past him and out the door.

Remus snickered into his tea. With a nod at Dorcas, who was now taking the order of the impossibly beautiful man accompanying this Potter fellow, he followed Lily’s exit and walked back to his dorm. 

***

James had been insufferable all through lunch. “Did you see, Padfoot? She touched my shoulder!” He had asked at least two dozen times.

“You were blocking the bleeding exit, you prat.” Sirius had said at least two dozen and one times. 

“Who do you think that guy she was with was?” James asked. 

Sirius looked up over his sandwich. “Hmm?”

“The guy. In the sweater?”

Sirius knew exactly who James was talking about. Tall, lanky guy in cuffed and faded black jeans, a truly horrifying sweater that still somehow managed to look good, the curliest hair Sirius had ever seen, and a truly magnificent scar across one side of his face, through his eyebrow. Sirius had almost not noticed Lily because of how distracted he had been by the beautiful, lanky stranger.

“Never seen him before.” 

“Hmm…”

“He cuffs his jeans, mate.”

“And?”

“God you’re impossible. Nevermind. I’m going, see you at lunch?”

“Yes, alright.” James pressed an absent minded kiss to Sirius’s cheek and stared into his tea.

Sirius rolled his eyes and left. 

When he got to his Renaissance class that afternoon, he saw that the desk critic had responded with just one word. “Mature.”

Sirius wrote back immediately. “I’ll have you know that I have never once been accused of being mature in my life, and I find it horribly offensive that you would even suggest such a thing.” 

***

Wednesday morning, Remus nearly burst out laughing. He considered his response for probably far too long, but the professor was rambling and Remus honestly couldn’t be bothered. His analysis of famous literary vampires was far from inspired anyway. “Far be it from me to offend anyone’s sensibilities, then. Consider the comment retracted.” 

He had a purposeful late lunch with Lily this time. She was delightful, though refused to say anything more about Severus if the subject was brought up. Remus was more than happy to leave it be. 

***

Wednesday afternoon, Sirius snickered to himself at the comment. “Aren’t you just the picture of proper etiquette?”

On Thursday, Regulus texted asking if he could come for tea on Saturday. Immediately, Sirius agreed. 

***

Thursday morning, Remus very nearly got into a fight. Severus had approached him where he was smoking outside the building he was about to go into. 

“I really don’t understand how you were let into this school.” Severus sneered. 

Remus raised one eyebrow, the one with the scar, and blew smoke directly into Severus’s sneering face. “Is it my face, my Jewish-ness, or my intelligence that bothers you so much, Severus?”

The other man coughed and waved the smoke away. “You’re disgusting.”

Remus shrugged. “Lots of people probably think so.”

“Your mother…” 

Remus immediately grabbed Severus by the shirt collar, stepped directly into his face, and spoke very clearly. “Say one more word about my mother, and you’ll have a scar across your face to match the one on mine. Or worse. Understood?”

At that very moment, the door opened. Remus dropped Severus’s collar and stepped away just as his professor for the next class stepped out and lit his own cigarette. Severus turned on his heel and walked away without a word.

“Mr. Lupin, right?”

“Yes sir.”

“I was delighted to read your essay. So refreshing. You’ve a lovely sense of humor.”

“Ah, well thank you sir.”   
  


“I’ll see you in class, Mr. Lupin.” 

He got through the rest of the day with his teeth gritted and smoked far more cigarettes than he should’ve. Peter brought chocolate ice cream for dinner and let him pick the movie. 

Friday morning, when he returned to his Non-Human class, he was pleasantly surprised to see that his desk-mate continued to add comments on his desk. 

“Did it escape your astute notice that we’re writing this on school property? Not exactly recommended in the etiquette books.”

***

“Is this you telling me to stop?”

Sirius’s weekend was a whirlwind. Regulus came over for tea, and it was nothing short of delightful. They watched a movie. Regulus’s sarcastic commentary kept James in stitches. James had been assigned to do a partner project. He had been partnered with Lily. It was going to take several weeks to complete. 

“Have you considered talking to her like she’s a regular human being?” Regulus asked, the fifth time James brought it up. 

Sirius bit back a laugh. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You talk about her like she’s some trophy to be won. She’s just a person.”

“Damn Reg.” Sirius was impressed. 

“I’m just saying. Maybe chill out. Act your age. Stop peacocking around her.”

James scowled. Sirius was gleeful.

***

“Not hardly. My roommate thinks it’s very punk rock of us.”

Remus had lunch again with Lily. She was complaining about having been partnered with Potter for a project in class. Apparently, he was the bane of her existence. If he read between the lines a bit, it more seemed like the lady doth protest too much, but he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her. He just let her go on and on about how annoying he was and how much of a smart arse he was. And then, over pasta in the cafeteria with Peter, he regaled the whole thing out to his friend. 

“She likes him, doesn’t she?” Peter asked through a mouthful of garlic bread.

“I think so.” 

“Grand. I think I know that Potter kid. Think he was in my maths class last semester. Bloody smart, and a nice guy to boot.”

“Well that’s good anyway.”

***

“I’ll have you know, I am the punkest of punk rock.”

***

“...you draw fresco style female figures. How is that punk rock?”

***

“Oi! Don’t sass! I was bored during class. The professor was droning on about frescos.”

***

“So...art student?”

***

Their conversation went on in this vein for weeks. The desk was a mess of black - Sirius - and blue ink - the Desk Critic, as Sirius had begun to call him. There really wasn’t any more room on the surface of the desk. But his last message, a very important commentary about The Song of Achilles, required a response.

“Shite.” He turned to Marlene, the girl two seats down from him. She was just settling into her desk, always so organized. They were friendly, studied together sometimes. Her girlfriend worked at the coffee shop and sometimes she brought him an extra latte to class. “Oi, do you have a sticky note?”

She stared at him for a moment, blinking. “Yeah, sure.” She smiles and hands him a pale yellow sticky note, and a tiny roll of tape. 

He frowned at the tape. She nodded to the desk. 

“They don’t stick well for very long.” 

“Ah.” 

He tapped his pen against his lip ring, thinking. “It’s not exactly our fault Ancient Greece was so delightfully gay. History is always way gayer than The People want it to be.”

With that, Sirius affixed the sticky note to the side of the desk, drew a big arrow pointing to the side it was taped on, and decided that would have to be good enough.

***

When Remus came into his literature class that Friday, one week before the midterm, he saw the arrow pointing to the side of his desk. Confused, he leaned to the side, and finally just laughed out loud. The girl a few seats down looked properly scandalized. Remus rolled his eyes and then winked at her. Immediately, she turned away. A vast improvement over her terrible pitying look from the beginning of the term, in his opinion. The professor walked in the room. Remus shrugged off his denim jacket. Quietly, he shuffled through his bag to find the sticky notes he was sure were still in there from when he had snagged them from Lily over lunch to annotate her copy of  _ Leaves of Grass _ when she had slapped his hand for trying to write in the margins. 

As the professor droned on about the paper they had due next for the midterm (Remus was writing his on monsters in literature as allegory for disenfranchised communities in history), Remus scratched out a note on the hot pink sticky note he found. 

“This will get bad for the environment - text me.” Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he added his phone number to the bottom. Then he carefully peeled the sticky note The Artiste had used, peeled the tape even more carefully, folded his note - so no one but his desk mate would see his phone number, he didn’t quite feel like getting random texts from just anybody, stuck it to the same place, and taped it. Then he drew over the original black ink arrow on the desk with his blue biro, hoping the desk mate would get the message.

Then he quickly changed his focus so he couldn’t think about how he just gave his number to a total stranger, and tried to listen to the professor. 

***

Friday before midterms was not nearly so exciting as Fridays should be. Sirius was tired, and knew the whole weekend would be spent studying and finishing projects, and he didn’t want to do any of that. He trudged to his Renaissance class, chatting with Marlene on the way in. They sit down, and Sirius sees the blue ink over the arrow he’d drawn on Wednesday afternoon. Excited, he put his cup down and leaned to the side. A folded, bright pink sticky note was affixed in the same spot. He opened it and laughed out loud. Marlene looked over his shoulder and rolled her eyes. 

“That has GOT to be the least amount of effort you’ve had to go through to get somebody’s number so far, mate.”

Sirius just smiled smugly and whipped his phone out before the stodgy professor walked in. He added the number to his contacts, set the name to Desk Critic, and spent the rest of the afternoon smiling like an idiot.

As soon as class ended, Sirius pulled his phone back out and texted the number. “Desk Critic?”

***

As Remus was leaving his maths class on Friday afternoon, he received a text from a number he did not recognize. 

“Desk Critic?” He muttered to himself, very nearly bumping into a stranger in the hallway. “Oh!”

“Is this the naked lady artist?”

“Oi. I do much more interesting art than naked ladies.”

“I have yet to see the evidence. I suppose I should say that I also do much more interesting things than critique desk art.”

A few beats later, an image came through. It was a truly magnificent painting, maybe acrylic, of what might be a piece of London skyline, but it was smeared and faded in places, nearly angry. Looking at it made Remus’s stomach hurt a little in a good way. 

“Well shite. The court has accepted this evidence and has decided to change their ruling.”

“You can call me Padfoot.”

“Moony.” 

Then Peter called, demanding dinner, and Remus forgot to ask the mysterious stranger with the gut wrenching art why they went by Padfoot.

***

The first thing Sirius realized about this Moony character, was that they were shite at texting. He thought maybe it was because of midterms, but midterms passed (Sirius’s painting of the London skyline got an A, thank you very much), and still Moony texted infrequently and in spurts.

During the week, it was like clockwork, and quickly Sirius realized that it was occuring between classes. 

“Don’t you think you’re thinking an awful lot into this, Pads?”

“No, shut up.”

James raised one eyebrow.

“I have spent the last year and a half listening to you gushing over Lily feckin’ Evans shut your mouth.”

James raised his hands in front of him. “Fair.”

***

Remus realized pretty quickly that he was kind of shite at texting. He usually remembered walking between his classes, and spent an awful lot of time walking from class to class with his head down staring at his phone. Peter was baffled by the mysterious stranger, but loved reading Remus and Padfoot’s text conversations. 

“Do you think they mind that I’m so shite at texting?”

Peter blinked. “You’re asking ME?”

Remus considered this, and then shrugged. “Who else am I gonna ask?”

“Moony, whoever this Padfoot is, they keep texting back, so clearly they aren’t bothered by your so-called ‘shite texting.’”

“Hope you’re right.”

***

Sirius was ready to bury himself in the studio for the next week until finals were over. And not just because James had been partnered with Lily again and they were finally becoming friendly because he had actually taken Regulus’s advice. Lily was, in fairness, absolutely lovely, and had even braided Sirius’s hair during a study break once, but Prongs was somehow worse now that Lily actually spoke to him when he said hey. He was just stressed. Landscapes were not his forte and he was stressed. 

It was because of this stress, and the spitting rain, that Sirius was not paying much attention to where he was going. So it was to his surprise that he slammed directly into something warm and wet and sturdy. 

“Fuck!” Sirius bit out as his phone clattered down onto the wet pavement. He was thankful for the LifeProof case Prongs had bought him after he spilled water color water on his last phone.

Then he looked up at the obstruction. All six feckin’ feet of obstruction. It was Lily’s friend from the cafe, curls covered in a red beanie, phone in hand.

“Oh fuck.” Sirius said again as the stranger bent down to pick up his fallen phone. Lily’s friend was truly and impossibly hot.

The other boy was now staring at Sirius’s open phone. His cheekbones were impossibly sharp. Sirius wanted to draw them. Or cut himself on them. He wasn’t sure even what he was thinking at this point. 

“I can’t help but notice who you’re texting,” the boy said. His voice was gravely and low. Sounded like he smoked. 

Sirius didn’t trust himself to say anything other than fuck at this point, so he just furrowed his brows in confusion.

The boy giggled. Actually, real life, giggled. Fuck he was fucking adorable. 

“You’re texting me.”

FUCK. “What?” Sirius finally found his voice.

“Too bad about that desk we destroyed, eh?”

“Excuse you, we created a modern art piece.”

***

Remus found himself staring at the impossibly beautiful friend of James Potter, who had green paint smeared across one ear, and was trying to tell him that the desk they had collectively destroyed was modern art. Remus burst out laughing. 

“I suppose it is, isn’t it?”

“I’m Sirius. He/Him. Art student. Drawer of bad nudes and painter of questionably sound landscapes.”

“Remus. He/Him. Literature student. Desk critic and shite texter.”

“Do you want to get a coffee with me?”

Remus blinked. 

“I’m sorry. That was forward. You probably have plans.” Sirius’s speech started to become rambled. “It’s just. You’re hysterically funny and I’ve been pining over you via text and desk all term and you’re probably the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re friends with Lily Evans, yeah? I’ve seen you with her before in the cafe.”

“Pining? Beautiful?” It was Remus’s turn to be a little speechless. 

“Oh I said all of that out loud.” Sirius was blushing faintly. He also had a speck of blue paint above one eyebrow. The one with the ring in it. Then he shrugged. “Well, it’s all true, can’t take it back.”

“Tea sounds lovely right now.”

Sirius smiled brightly. Remus was at a loss for words to describe the way Sirius’s smile made him feel. The words hadn’t been written yet.

***

The beautiful boy turned in the direction of the cafe with him, and Sirius was gleeful. He was wearing a tattered raincoat, but Sirius could see the edge of a truly heidous and lovely sweater underneath it. 

They sat in the cafe for over an hour, talking about everything, nothing. About their families, about how preposterous Lily and James were, about Remus’s roommate’s amusement at their desk conversations, about classes and finals and shite childhoods and religion and the best place for take out in the city. 

“You’re probably curious about the scars, huh?” Remus asked, distracting Sirius from his cheekbones. 

“Huh? No.” Sirius said, and then started over. “Sorry. I was staring at your cheekbones. They’re very sharp and very beautiful. I mean, yes, I am curious, but I’m also not a total dickhead. I figure that if you wanted to tell me, you would. I tend not to ask people about their scars. Visible or not.”

Remus blinked several times. “You’re feckin’ lovely.”

Sirius was baffled. “Sorry?”

“I just…” Remus sighed. “People usually just ask first. Without even considering it.”

“People are generally shite.”

The little bell above the cafe door jangled. Remus looked up. 

***

“Speaking of shite.” Remus muttered. Severus Snape was walking in the cafe. 

Sirius turned around, and immediately scowled. “I fucking hate that guy.”

“Anti-semetic fuckin’ prick.”

“I know.” Sirius put his head in his hand. “When he heard my last name, he tried to smarm up to me, until I set the record straight. I’m the Black Sheep. Far too homosexual, far too flamboyant, far too liberal and accepting.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

“It was almost funny, to be honest.” 

Snape was glaring at their table. “He makes me want to just be as belligerantly queer and Jewish and disabled as possible.” Remus snickered. 

“Could just start making out at the table just to see what he’d do?” Sirius sounded casual, but his cheekbones were tinged slightly pink. 

Remus considered this. The door bell jingled again. James and Lily walked in, deep in conversation. 

“Oh fuck.” 

“Jesus.” Sirius followed his gaze. “This is gonna go great, huh?”

“Fucking superbly.” 

Snape nearly dropped his drink when he saw James and Lily together. Remus stood up, and Sirius followed suite. 

“Lily!?” Snape looked horrified. 

James looked pissed. Lily looked tired. “Hi Severus.”

“You’re talking with HIM!?”

“It’s a free fucking country, Severus.”

Snape looked like he smelled something disgusting. “HE doesn’t belong here…”

James’s expression changed from pissed to fuming in the space of about a second. “Excuse me!?” 

Before Remus could even react, Sirius was practically leaping over the desk between him and his best friend. “What the fuck do you mean by that?” the short boy demanded, fire flashing in his grey eyes, shoulder to shoulder with James. 

Snape looked down his nose. “I think you know exactly what I mean, f--”

Remus cut him off, walking slowly towards the group. “I really, really recommend you don’t fucking finish that word, Snape.” A crowd was gathering. 

***

Sirius’s head turned to watch Remus slowly walk towards them. The walk looked very nearly predatory, and somewhere behind all his anger, Sirius felt a sharp spark of arousal. He could feel James shaking next to him. 

Lily spoke up. She looked sad. Confused “Go away, Severus. Just stop. You’ve clearly changed a lot, I don’t think we should be friends anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

Remus spoke. “You heard her, Snape.”

“Nobody asked you, you…”

“Severus!” Lily cut in. 

“You’re a fucking bitch. Probably sleeping with all of them, too, you fucking slut.” Snape’s face contorted in anger, ugly and sharp. 

From nowhere, a short, blond boy pushed past James and punched Snape directly in the nose. Snape crumpled on the floor, hands clutched over his nose and tea spilt around him. Blood started pouring from his hands. 

The blonde boy spoke. “You should probably go get that checked out at the A&E. It’s probably broken. Also you probably should watch the way you talk to people.” He then looked around at their little group. “Folks, might I suggest we step outside and leave these lovely people to their cafe business? Sorry about that, Benjy.” He nodded to the behemoth of a man staring from behind the counter. 

Without thinking about it, Sirius started following the blonde boy’s gesturing out the door. The rain had stopped.

Remus started laughing once they were all outside again. “Fuck, Pete. That was bold!”

Lily looked nearly terrified and very amused. “You broke his nose!”

Pete. Must be Remus’s roommate. Sirius was still shaking. James was blinking next to him. 

Pete spoke very matter of factly. “He called you a slut and a bitch. Not to mention all the other things he said. I’m sure there was more before I walked in, around the time he tried to insult Moony.”

“Moony?” James asked, looking around. 

At that, Sirius burst into laughter himself. What a fucking day. James and Lily looked at each other, and then at Peter, and then at the two laughing boys in front of them. 

Once he had his breath back, Sirius started explaining. 

***

Sirius gestured wildly when he spoke. “I was walking to the studio in the rain, and literally ran smack into Remus here because we were both texting and walking. Don’t text and walk, kids. Turned out, we were texting each other. He’s the desk critic! Moony, Prongs, he’s Moony!”

James’ face suddenly showed some realization. “Oh!”

“Anyway, Moony is lovely and beautiful and agreed to get tea with me. We were chatting up a storm. Then Snape walked in, then you walked in, then fighting started, and then Peter here just fucking decked the smarmy bastard.” Here, he turned to Remus’s roommate. “I’m assuming you’re the Peter who is also Wormtail, who is also Moony’s roommate?” Peter nodded. “You should definitely wash your hand with industrial strength dish cleaner. Greasy bastard.”

Somehow, this explanation seemed to make sense to James. He leaned forward. “Hello, Moony, aka Remus, aka Desk Critic. James Potter. Best friend, de facto brother, and roommate to this one,” he pointed to Sirius with his thumb. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.” 

Baffled, Remus shook his hand. 

“And Peter, aka Wormtail, aka the bravest man here today, I believe we’ve met? Last term, right?”

“You were failing calculus.”

“Good man!” James smiled widely, and stuck his hand out. 

Peter stared at it for a moment, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Remus winced internally. “I don’t shake hands.”

“That’s fair!” James looked far from offended, somehow. Remus smiled. “It’s lovely to see you again anyway!”

Remus looked at Lily. “Lils. You okay?”

“I…” She took a deep breath. “I think so?” She was hugging herself. Immediately, James took off his windbreaker and put it over her shoulders. 

“Shall we go back to mine and Sirius’s and order an unholy amount of takeaway? Sirius’s younger brother should be here soon anyway.”

Lily nodded into the collar of James’ jacket. Remus looked at Peter, who blinked back. 

“Alright, I’ll go, but Peter picks the takeaway. He knows all the best spots.” Remus nodded at Peter, slightly. 

Peter’s mouth crooked into an approximation of a grin. “Sounds good to me, mate.” Then his face went serious for a moment. “You need anything from the room first?”

Remus blinked. He took a deep breath, thought about it a moment. “No, I think I’m alright.”

“Are we walking?” Peter asked James anyway.

“Mmm I have my car, and Pads brought his bike today, I believe.”

“Bike?” Lily looked at the boy with the skinny jeans and the heavy boots. 

“Motorbike. Built it myself.” Sirius declared proudly. “Oh! Remus, we left our things at the table inside!”

Remus was stuck on the first bit. “You...built a motorbike yourself?”

“And then named her Elvendork. No class, this one.” James declared. 

Remus was sure he was choking a bit. Sirius’s cheeks were a bit red, but he was looking directly at Remus. 

Peter coughed a little. “So, if Sirius is willing to go grab the things that were left inside prior to the scuffle, perhaps Lily and I could ride with James, and Sirius could take Remus on the bike?”

“Works for me. Shake a leg, Pads.” 

***

Sirius managed to drag his eyes away from Remus’s pink face. He looked like he was going to choke on his own spit, and Sirius would’ve given his left arm to know what the other boy was thinking. 

“Back in a tick!” He grinned anyway. 

He hurried back with the two messenger bags, Remus’s raincoat, and his own leather jacket. On his way out the door, he shoved a fiver into the tip jar and shouted another apology to Benjy. 

“Shall we?” James gestured in the direction of the car park. 

Remus took his coat and bag from Sirius and nodded, falling into step next to the artist. 

“We should order a pizza or something to the cafe for all the fuss we created.” Sirius pondered.

Remus looked at him curiously. “We should. They’d appreciate that.”

Peter pulled out his phone. “I know the place Benjy likes.”

“How?” Remus asked, frowning at his roommate. 

“He’s a physics student. We were talking about the best pizza places after Trig few weeks ago.” Peter was already placing the order on his phone. “Should arrive there in a few.” 

Remus shuffled around in his bag, producing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Anyone mind?” He gestured with the pack. 

Everyone shook their heads, so Remus put one between his lips, cupped his hands over his face, and lit the cigarette. Sirius couldn’t tear his eyes away as the boy took a deep breath in, pulled the cigarette away, and blew smoke out above all their heads. Smoking should never be that attractive. It was impossible. 

“That’ll likely kill you one day, mate.” Lily said with a grin. 

“Already meant to die once and it didn’t work, I’ll be alright.” Remus responded. 

Sirius frowned. James turned abruptly with an unsettled noise in the back of his throat. Peter just groaned and smacked his head. 

“Moony.” Peter grumbled. 

Remus sort of laughed around the cigarette. “Sorry, sorry. It’s funny. Well. Not funny but sort of funny. I was in a very bad car accident as a kid. I very nearly died. Left me with all these scars and some fun muscle spasms.”

“Oh god, mate.” James’s eyes were wide. 

Without thinking, Sirius grabbed Remus’s hand and squeezed. Remus looked down with a slightly surprised expression, but then just laced their fingers together and rubbed the back of Sirius’s hand with his thumb. Sirius felt his heart soar. 

“It was many years ago. I’m alright. Just can’t always walk long distances, and tell very dark jokes sometimes.”

James nodded. Sirius squeezed Remus’s hand again. They were at the car park. 

“Prongs, do you have the extra helmet in your boot?” Sirius asked. 

“Oh, yeah. Smart.” He guided them towards a very nice, newish looking Mini Cooper. 

Sirius watched Remus’s eyes go wide. 

Sirius grinned. “Don’t let the smart new vehicle trick you. He’s got all the trappings of a posh brat, but lord knows it did him absolutely no good. He’s a slobbish prick.”

“Oi!” James retorted. “If Mum and Da ask, I’m a very properly behaved and upstanding gentleman.”

“They know the truth, Prongs. They tried so hard. It got them nowhere.” Sirius turned to Peter. “One trip to a chippy and suddenly he forgot everything he’d ever known about etiquette. It was rather remarkable.”

“You were way worse, Pads.”

“That’s absolutely true. The Moste Noble and Ancient House of Black does not allow for such joys as contracting words or eating with your hands. We’re still learning. You’ll meet Reg soon, he’s still very stiff. We give him a hard time about it. Fallen princes and all that.”

Remus and Lily shared a very confused look. 

“Is any of that supposed to make sense to us?” Peter asked.

Sirius shrugged. “It’s likely better if you don’t. But Reg, Regulus, is my little brother. He’s not quite been disowned yet, but he is running away as soon as he gets out of school. Finally came around.”

“You were disowned?” Lily asked with a frown.

“Sure was.”

“Guess everyone’s got something, huh?” Remus remarked. 

“That’s what they say. But James is pretty well adjusted.”

“We’ll let him in the club anyway.”

“Oh good.”

“Take your bloody helmet, you prat. See you at home?” James shoved a black motorbike helmet at Sirius with a grin. 

“Of course, dear.” Sirius, without letting go of Remus’s hand, stood on his tip toes and gave James a kiss on the cheek. “Lils, Pete, see you shortly. Best wishes with that one’s driving!” He sounded positively gleeful, and tugged Remus away. 

***

Moments later, Remus was standing in front of a sleek black and silver motorbike. He swallowed. 

“You built this?” He croaked. 

Sirius was rocking back and forth on his feet. “Do you...erm...do you like it?”

“Sirius, I think I’d very much like to snog you right now.”

Sirius sounded confused. “What?”

Remus blinked and looked very directly over at the other boy. “Earlier, you said we could make out at the cafe to piss Snape off. As fun as it is to kiss in order to piss someone off, I think I’d like to kiss you just now.”

“You...you want to kiss me?”

Remus was beginning to feel rather wrong-footed. Maybe he had misread. “Erm, well, if you don’t…”

Suddenly, there was a clatter of motorbike helmet on car park ground, and Remus’s arms were full of Sirius, who had his hands on either side of Remus’s face and was kissing him with aggressively wild abandon. It took Remus a brief moment to catch up, and then he started kissing back. He slid his bag off his shoulder, where it fell with a muffled thud, and wrapped his arms around Sirius’s slim waist, pulling the shorter man closer. 

The kiss was as chaste as a frenzied car park kiss could be, but promised a much less chaste kiss later, and Remus could barely breathe by the time Sirius finally pulled back, hands sliding down Remus’s arms. He looked almost shy when he looked back up at Remus. 

“I think we definitely should do that again sometime.” Remus remarked, arms still wrapped around Sirius’s waist. He didn’t want to let go, ever.

“Yeah?” 

Oh, definitely.” 

“Now?” Sirius looked excited. 

“The others will definitely take the piss if we show up too late.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You’re absolutely right.” He leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Remus’s mouth. 

Reluctantly, Remus removed his hands from Sirius’s waist, and bent to pick up his bag, while Sirius picked up his own and the spare helmet, which he handed to Remus. He took the bags and shoved them in a compartment off the side of the bike. Remus stood holding the helmet in his hands, as Sirius mounted the bike and unclipped his own helmet. The other boy turned and looked at Remus with a furrowed brow. 

“Erm. How do I get ON this thing?”

Sirius broke into a grin, and offered a hand. “It’s not that difficult, Moons. One leg over, there you go.”

Clumsily, Remus managed to get astride the bike, and shoved the helmet on. 

Loudly, over the sound of the starting bike, Sirius hollered. “Hold on tight!”

With a grin, Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’s middle. The bike vibrated underneath him. It was an odd sensation, but wrapping his arms around Sirius was definitely not. With a lurch, Sirius turned and they were driving. 

It turned out that riding a motorbike felt rather like flying. He definitely understood why Sirius did it. In spite of himself, he whooped loudly.

James and Lily and Peter took the piss anyway, when they showed up after them, wind blown and out of breath. 

***

The class before his last Renaissance Art class, Sirius snuck in a jar of epoxy. He pulled it out after class ended and the other students started to file out. Marlene looked at him curiously. 

“I’ll catch up with you, Marls. Promise.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I saw nothing, Sirius.”

“You’re excellent, love.”

“Mmm.”

***

When Remus showed up to his final Masterpieces of English Literature: Literature and the Non-Human class, which was pointless, because they were just turning their final papers in, he was very nearly late. The girl from two desks down was glaring at his desk. Confused, he slid into his seat and gave her a dirty look. She scoffed and quickly looked away. 

Finally, Remus looked down. Immediately, he broke out into a grin. At the top of the desk, in the original ivy border, Sirius had written in his beautiful script, “Moony and Padfoot’s Desk” in a silver marker. And then he had covered the entire thing in epoxy, so it couldn’t be cleaned off. Remus took a picture of it, and sent it to his favorite group chat. 

“Lads, the person who shares this desk with me is absolutely mad.”

Peter responded quickly enough. “Your critique of their desk art is absolutely mad.”

“Inspected lots of desk art, have you?” Sirius asked. 

“Clearly more than you, mate.”

“I refuse to engage in this absurdity.” Regulus remarked.

“Aww, it’s cute though.” Lily added. 

James responded with an eye rolling emoji. And then moments later, he wrote “Shall we go to Sirius’s cousin’s restaurant to celebrate the end of the semester and Reg’s freedom?”

A chorus of yeses resounded. 

***

The first week of the summer, Regulus, James, and Peter met mid-afternoon outside the classroom Sirius and Remus had shared. 

“This is ridiculous.” Regulus stated. 

“You agreed to this, Reg.” James reminded him.

“I just want to go on the record.” He retorted. 

“Lads. Hush. Act like you belong here.” Peter bit out, jingling the ring of keys he had somehow acquired. He refused to answer any questions about that. 

Quickly, he unlocked the door. They searched the back of the classroom, and found the defaced desk in the row third from the back. With unexpected swiftness, Regulus unscrewed it from the floor, and Regulus and James carried it out to the truck Peter had borrowed from Benjy’s friend Gideon for their purposes. He also refused to answer questions about how he managed to do that. Peter locked the door behind them. As they were loading the desk into the truck, a woman none of them knew walked by and gave them a funny look. 

“Been totally defaced. Have to remove it.” Peter told her, gruffly, with an annoyed look on his face. 

“Some people don’t know how to respect property.” She said with an understanding nod.

“It’s ridiculous.” Peter agreed.

The woman walked away. As soon as she was inside, James turned to Peter. 

“You, sir, are an absolute legend.”

“Shut up and get in the truck.”

Regulus rolled his eyes and got in the back seat.

They drove it to James’s parents house, at which point Peter abandoned them to drive the truck back to Gideon. He promised to return with food and James’s Mini in an hour. As James and Regulus were carrying the desk up the stairs, Euphema came down the stairs. 

“Hi Mum!”

“Hi...Mrs. Potter….” 

“Regulus, dear. I’ve told you. Euphema is fine.”

“Er. Right.”

“Please, James, don’t scratch the walls. Or tell me what you’re doing. I can only assume it’s breaking about 60 rules.”

“We’ll be careful, Mum. Love you!” James started walking back up the stairs, and baffled, Regulus followed. Not that he had much choice, carrying half the desk.

“Mmm. Love you, too. I’m going to meet your father for tea. Do you have food?”

“Peter’s bringing some!” James called down the stairs. “Bye!”

They managed to get the desk into James’s childhood room without incident. 

“Your mum just…”

“She’s used to my nonsense. And Sirius lived here, too. If she asked us what we were doing every time we were doing something we shouldn’t’ve been, she’d be exhausted.”

“Makes sense I guess.” 

“So, you think you can get it…” James started. 

Regulus had already begun to undo the bolts attaching the legs of the desk to the wooden top. 

“Right...It’s weird that you know how to do this, Reg.”

Regulus looked up, brushing his fridge out of his face. “Sirius built an entire motorbike, James.”

“You make a very fair point.” He flopped down on the floor. 

“You are the least graceful person I know.”

James just shrugged. Regulus went back to work, unscrewing the legs of the desk. They were old, and it wasn’t easy, but after about thirty minutes more, he had managed to wrench the last ancient metal leg apart from the wooden desktop. James handed him the industrial strength picture hanging kit they’d bought and a drill. As he finished, Peter returned with Moroccan food and the keys to James’s Mini. 

***

Shortly after graduation, Remus and Sirius stood in the living room of their new flat. They had decided to abandon the cramped house the six of them had all shared through the rest of university. Regulus was now working at an antique shop, having decided to forgo university entirely, and had been offered the small apartment above the shop, as the old man who owned the place couldn’t navigate the stairs anymore. Peter was moving to Denmark to work with an environmental company. James and Lily were moving in together in the city. So Remus and Sirius had a small, two bedroom flat filled with mismatched furniture, that Sirius had inherited from his Uncle Alphard. Everyone was sitting around, surrounded by unpacked boxes of books and art supplies, sweaty and tired. This was the third move this week alone and they were tired.

Suddenly snickering, James gave Peter a look. He and Peter ran out to James’s no longer quite so shiny Mini without a word. Regulus groaned and knocked his head back against the back of the sofa he was sitting in. Lily raised an eyebrow. 

The two boys - young men, now - came back with a large, flat object wrapped in newspaper. 

“What is that?” Remus asked from his place, now laying on the cool tile floor. 

“Open it!” James demanded, excitedly, placing it next to Remus. 

Sirius sat down next to Remus, and helped his boyfriend up from his prone position. They shared a look. 

“Open it,” Peter insisted, sitting in the one arm chair they had. 

“What did you do?” Lily narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend.

James flopped dramatically between Regulus and Lily. Regulus rolled his eyes. 

“Please open it before he loses his mind.”

“Alright, you open one end, I’ll open the other. Save James from an untimely death.” Remus drolled. 

The pair tore the newspaper off the gift, and Sirius shouted in excitement when he saw what it was. 

“It’s our desk!” He cried. “Re, it’s our desk!”

Remus was gaping. He turned to the rest. “How did you manage this?”

“We stole it at the end of that term. Reg removed the legs and added the hangy thingie on the back.” James responded. “Hid it at Mum and Da’s.”

“I assumed it had been removed!” Remus remarked.

“I mean, it had been. We removed it, Moony.” Peter responded. 

“You’re all insufferable.” Regulus added. 

Lily stood up abruptly and shuffled through the tool kit laying on the floor in the kitchen. “We have to hang it now. It’s monumental! I have no idea how James kept this a secret for as long as he did.”

“Oi!”

It hung above their mantel. Moony & Padfoot’s Desk.

**Author's Note:**

> Please sir, may I have some kudos??
> 
> I'm very tired. Please give love! If you have any requests or recommendations, holla!


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